When Things Go Wrong (Horribly, Horribly Wrong)
by Hoshiko
Summary: Mitsuru is upset about somethin, and it's up to Shinobu to figure out what.


wrong

Looking up as Mitsuru trudged into their room, Shinobu couldn't help but smile; Mitsuru always looked so cute after band practice. The little red ring on his mouth left from his instrument's mouthpiece was just so adorable. Although, now that he thought about it, it was a little odd that the mark managed to last so long. _Especially considering that any type of injury to his face heals in minutes…something to ponder on a rainy day, perhaps._

As though sensing his roommate's thoughts, Mitsuru shot the silver-haired boy a warning glower before flopping facedown on the bottom bunk. One elegantly shaped eyebrow rose in silent inquiry.

When it became apparent that he was not about to receive an explanation, Shinobu shrugged inwardly and turned back to the problem at hand. It seemed that things had been too…tranquil? Well that was laughable, even when bizarre things _weren't_ occurring at Greenwood, it was _never_ tranquil. No, things had just been too…well, too normal as of late.

Shinobu shuddered at the very notion. To his way of thinking, normalcy was a bad thing. A very bad thing. Normal people never had any fun; they just did _normal_ things.

How repugnant.

Vaguely he found himself wondering what Nagisa was doing, and blinked as he realized the direction his mind taken him. No.

He would rather tap dance naked in front of the whole school than voluntarily involve his obviously insane sister. So then, back to the problem at hand.

A muffled groan caught his attention, and his eyes widened with almost unholy glee. Of course! Mitsuru was always getting himself into one mess or another, and judging from his current foul mood, now was certainly not an exception. Ahhhh…the joys of knowing the blonde boy were endless.

"So. Are you up to talking about it yet?" Shinobu asked politely.

An annoyed grunt was his only reply.

*****************************

The moment he walked into the room, Mitsuru got a bad feeling. A very bad feeling. A quick look at his roommate revealed nothing sinister, at least on the surface. _There's no knowing with him though._ Mitsuru thought miserably, glaring at Shinobu for good measure before collapsing on the lower bed.

He knew without looking that Shinobu was doing that unbearably delightful eyebrow thing, but he couldn't find it within himself to look. Not when everything was about to fall apart around him.

Eventually Shinobu relented, taking his attention off of him, and leaving Mitsuru feeling unusually…edgy. Something had been bothering Shinobu lately, and Mitsuru knew from long experience that it couldn't possibly be a good thing. Oh my no. Anytime the green-eyed boy got that particular restless look, it meant trouble, especially for him.

Burying his face in Shinobu's pillow, Mitsuru briefly considered smothering himself only to realize what a horribly ineffective a way that would be to kill himself. _Besides, that wouldn't solve my problem._

Groaning, Mitsuru rubbed his still tingling lips with one hand as he contemplated his options. _I really should practice more often, my lips are out of shape._

"So. Are you up to talking about it yet?"

Mitsuru's eyes popped open in something very much akin to fear. _Oh dear lord, someone help me. He's got that tone of voice again._

Unable to trust his voice, heaven only knew what would come flying out – Mitsuru settled for an incoherent grumble. _Ha! Let him try and make something out of that!_

*****************************

Shinobu's eyes narrowed to slits. _A challenge, is it? Very well, I accept, Mitsuru._

Reaching into the top drawer of the desk, the silver-haired boy pulled out a leather-bound book, slightly larger than his palm. Deliberately _not_ looking at the blonde, Shinobu moistened his index finger with his tongue and calmly started to page through the document. Pausing at the latest entry he allowed the faintest of smiles to cross his face.

"Dear Diary," Shinobu began, his voice carefully modulated to carry clearly and loudly through the room. "Today I –"

Shinobu didn't so much as twitch when Mitsuru suddenly lunged toward him. Ripping the battered tome from the other boy's hands, Mitsuru went into a somersault that carried him across the room where he ended up in a crouch facing Shinobu.

Quite impressive actually. _It must be the martial arts training._ Shinobu mused.

"Really Mitsuru, you shouldn't leave that out where just _anyone_ can find it."

Glaring for all he was worth, Mitsuru opened his mouth to retort, and blinked. _Wait a minute…I don't _have_ a diary…_

Against his will he glanced at Shinobu, violet eyes narrowing dangerously as he saw that his roommate was grinning that little cat-grin of his. _One of these days, Shinobu you bastard, one of these days._

Resigned to his fate, Mitsuru took a closer look at the book in his hand and groaned inwardly. It was Shinobu's address book.

*****************************

"I hope you realize that that was a dirty trick." Mitsuru grumbled, tossing the small notebook at his roommate.

Catching it effortlessly in one hand, Shinobu smirked, as though to say:'You were expecting something else?'

Sighing, Mitsuru decided that he really should have transferred to another school when he'd had the chance. _My life would have been so much simpler._ He thought wistfully.

"You know," Mitsuru tensed at the reflective tone to his roommate's voice, "You look uncannily like Hasukawa right now."

Sprawled flat-out on his back in the middle of the room, the blonde boy did resemble a certain red-haired underclassman with a penchant for moodiness.

Mitsuru's eyes widened in righteous anger. How dare he? How dare Shinobu compare him to… Oh what was the point? He _did_ look like Hasukawa in one of his bleaker moments.

*************************

Watching his roommate closely, Shinobu was about to begin his questioning when a soft knock sounded at the door. Mentally cursing the interruption, Shinobu schooled his features to that of his usual bland arrogance.

A quick look showed that Mitsuru had peeled himself off the floor and was now seated in a more dignified position at the chabudai.

"Come in."

The door opened slowly, causing the two roommates a moment of mutual curiosity before a red-faced Hasukawa blundered in, arms laden with a massive heap of…pink.

For a brief, horrified moment Shinobu thought that the younger boy had been caught in some kind of baking accident. The sweet aroma of vanilla hung in the air, and was that a hint of cinnamon tossed in as well? Giving himself a mental shake, Shinobu dismissed the idea as totally absurd. _Although with Kazuya's luck…I wouldn't put it past him._

"Hasukawa?"

With a disgruntled huff, the younger boy dropped the packages he had been carrying just inside the doorway. Pinning Mitsuru in place with a narrow-eyed glare, Hasukawa wordlessly stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him for good effect.

Surprised at the other boy's actions, Shinobu turned to his roommate, and froze. There was a wide-eyed look of terror in Mitsuru's eyes that he had seen only a few times before. _My, my, is it already that time of the year? Where _has_ the time gone?_

"I think I understand now, Mitsuru. Don't you think you're overreacting just a scad? It's just like any other day of the year…only more festive."

*****************************

Mitsuru felt a bit like Damocles waiting for the sword to fall as the silence in the room built up to an intolerable level. _This is just like him…waiting for me to crack…well I'll be damned if I give him the pleasure!_ He thought defiantly.

His resolution lasted all of a minute as he felt the weight of Shinobu's cool green gaze on him. _Ye gods, what am I thinking? Shinobu practically invented the art of interrogation…I'll be lucky to come out of this alive._

The quiet knock on the door was like a godsend for Mitsuru, who was beginning to feel the first stages of panic set in.

Moving with a speed that surpassed his earlier exertions the blonde-haired boy scurried over to the chabudai, which had been moved to the side of the room. Taking up a seemingly relaxed position facing the door, he pasted on one of his patented smiles. It was the one that said 'I'm feeling fine, and you?'

He had a varied array of such smiles, all of which were painstakingly labeled and categorized for use in an emergency such as this.

The smile slipped fractionally as the door inched open with no one in sight, and then the devil himself walked in.

Or so it seemed to a horror-stricken Mitsuru as an obviously seething Hasukawa stumbled in, burdened by a horrendous mountain of pink-wrapped boxes. The scent of sulfur and brimstone would have been far more welcome than what assaulted the blonde boy's nostrils. Vanilla with the barest sprinkle of cinnamon.

_Gods no…it's already started!_

The forlorn little wail echoed in his mind, only to be brought to a screeching halt as Hasukawa speared him with an angry look. Scrambling for something to say, Mitsuru watched in shock as the redhead spun on his heel and stomped out. Flinching as the door slammed shut, Mitsuru stared transfixed at the pile of pink parcels, each lovingly hand-wrapped in differing shades of pink.

"I think I understand now, Mitsuru. Don't you think you're overreacting just a scad? It's just like any other day of the year…only more festive." Shinobu drawled, amusement tingeing his voice.

More festive? Had Shinobu finally gone mad from all of his plottings?

Didn't he realize that in a matter of mere moments they would be inundated with countless _pink_ presents, enough to literally send the entire dorm into sugar shock?

This pitiful smattering of boxes that Hasukawa had lugged to their room was only the beginning, the advance scout as it were, for a full-scale invasion.

*****************************

Shinobu found it was amazingly hard to stifle his grin at the look of dumbfounded horror on Mitsuru's face. While he received his fair amount of sugary tokens each year, they in no way approached what Mitsuru was typically given. _Most likely do to his more open personality._ He theorized, eyes crinkling at his roommate's obvious discomfort.

"Are those cookies I smell? I thought you usually received chocolates." Shinobu nearly purred, intent on getting the most out of the moment.

This might not have been the disaster he'd been hoping for, but it would have to do until something better came along. And besides, this would be _so_ much more fun. Valentine's day came only once a year, which was a pity, really. Mitsuru was too, too adorable when he got that 'deer in the headlights' look.

For his part, Mitsuru was slowly edging towards the window. It was closed at the moment, and they were on the second floor, but he was certain if he rolled _just right_ he should be able to avoid injury. Already he could hear the other dorm-dwellers approaching their room, arms full of similar gifts from his adoring mob of fan girls.

_Dears gods, why am I the only one to suffer? Why?_

Mitsuru's heartfelt complaint went unheeded, or if any deity happened to have heard it, well, they didn't particularly care at the moment.


End file.
